


Eternal Temptation

by Bi_Bat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, Jealous Sakusa Kiyoomi, M/M, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, Monster generation shenanigans, Mutual Pining, Pining Sakusa Kiyoomi, Post-Time Skip, Sakusa Kiyoomi is a Simp, Top Sakusa Kiyoomi, kinda smutty?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29979882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bi_Bat/pseuds/Bi_Bat
Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi is in love.He had been enamoured with Miya Atsumu for years, the setter never strayed far from his thoughts. There would always be a part of him that dreamt of blonde hair and bright smiles, of amber eyes looking only at him. And after all these years he couldn't take it anymore, he had to make Miya his boyfriend.But between Kiyoomi's lacking romantic knowledge and desperate pining, there were a few problems. Leading him to reluctantly having ask their friends for help, and at this point he didn't care what he had to do as long as he ended up with Miya in his arms.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	Eternal Temptation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I have been thinking about writing this for too long. I adore the concept of a smitten Sakusa, being absolutely in love with Miya, but not knowing what to do. Which is how this fic came to be! I was a bit hesitant because I haven't really written a lot with these two characters, but this fandom needs more of Sakusa being a complete simp for Miya.

Ecstatic. Blissful. Hopeful. Bittersweet.

That was how Sakusa Kiyoomi felt when he heard that Miya’s boyfriend had broken up with him. 

_ Perhaps it’s mean to think that, _ Kiyoomi pondered as he walked to his bed, ignoring the constant ringing of his phone, he already knew what everyone was texting him about. 

Miya Osamu had obviously been the first to know about the break-up, and had texted him the second his brother had left the shop. After that, when the rest of their friends were told about the break-up, all of them were texting him. Spamming him with countless texts, all of which were the same. 

_ ‘Have you heard?’ _

_ ‘Did you know?’ _

_ ‘Dude!’ _

_ ‘Are you gonna do something?’ _

_ ‘What will you do?’ _

_ ‘This is your chance!’ _

He knew why they were texting. The truth was that he, Sakusa Kiyoomi, was in love with Miya Atsumu.

Ever since he had first met the setter, he had been intrigued. 

At first it had only been competitive curiosity, wanting to find out more about a fellow athlete. In the beginning he had thought that Miya was just an arrogant and talented setter, a teenager who was too loud and talked too much. 

Yet, the more time that Kiyoomi spent with him, most were involuntary and few of his own accord, the more his original view seemed to change.

He began to enjoy the comments and grimaces that Miya would make, looking forward to when he could hear them again. 

Not only that, but Miya showed an immense respect for his boundaries. He still called him dumb nicknames and they riled each other up whenever they were together. But Miya never made fun of his hygiene concerns, never forced them to touch, and sometimes even helped him. 

He first became aware of the feelings in his last year of high school, resigning himself to never tell him, not that he would get a chance to do it when it was unlikely they would meet again. 

Years later, Kiyoomi is signing a contract with division 1 team Black Jackals, and suddenly Miya Atsumu is standing in front of him again. Smiling that wide grin, with those glimmering hazel eyes looking up at him from underneath dark lashes. 

And he’s back, the fire in his chest that never truly burned out is set ablaze once again. 

He vowed never to tell others about these feelings, content with keeping him a secret, desperately wanting to keep Miya by his side without the setter being burdened by his love. 

But luck wasn’t on his side, and somehow everyone in their volleyball circle figured out that he had a crush on the setter, often mocking him and wiggling their eyebrows at them.

Frankly, he didn’t know what was worse, Wakatoshi and Kageyama’s silent judging and raised eyebrows, or Suna and his smug boyfriend, otherwise known as Miya Osamu, who egged him on the most. The latter two were renowned for their disdain towards anyone who was interested in the setter. 

“Well, it’s not like any of them ever liked his ex boyfriend, or the flings he had in the past,” Kiyoomi commented, voice gentle as he talked to himself, the room and apartment empty except for him. Just like it always was. 

No matter how much Kiyoomi wanted him, he never did confess, scared of chasing away that precious light and fire he had craved for years. The blonde twin never noticed and had instead started dating a man named Yuuri, a sports reporter that had interviewed their team once. 

Miya and Yuuri had been dating for a few months, and it had all been good at the beginning, everyone could see how sickly sweet they were with each other.

It was only after a few weeks that Kiyoomi realised something, after the initial honeymoon period Kiyoomi could see that Miya was becoming increasingly frustrated by the relationship. 

He hated it, hated watching the way Miya would bite his lip in anger, desperately trying to keep his tongue. To lock away a deep part of himself, that Kiyoomi was enamoured with.

Yuuri was too nice, too  _ sweet.  _

Kiyoomi knew that Miya didn’t feel like he could actually be himself around his, now ex, boyfriend, always feeling like he had to pretend that he wasn’t irritated, constantly having to tone down his sarcastic and snarky comments. 

It was boring. It was constricting Miya from being himself, caging him in and removing his freedom. 

Kiyoomi had never wanted to throttle a person more than Yuuri.

Every time Miya opened his mouth and made one of his signature snarky comments, Yuuri would lecture him over the comments he made to his friends and brother, even though they didn’t mind the teasing from the setter. 

It was all for fun, everyone in the volleyball world knew that Miya stopped if the other side expressed their discomfort and explicitly told him to, he wasn’t that big of an asshole. 

“Damn it,” Kiyoomi angrily muttered as he thought about the setter’s past relationship, clenching his hand trying to focus on calming himself down, no need to be pissed about it when it was already over.

The anger mixing with the pure euphoria and joy inside him. He had been so conflicted when he heard that Yuuri had broken up with Miya. He was happy, yet at the same time he was astounded by the audacity that Yuuri had, breaking up with Miya.

Yuuri had made the mistake that Kiyoomi would never make if he was Miya’s boyfriend, the man had let go of the setter, of the most beautiful and lively man to grace Kiyoomi’s mind and life.

In the room where the silence was the loudest presence, he wondered if he could he allowed to dream of a future with golden locks and a sharp tongue. 

“I wonder-”

“What are you wondering?”

The voice shocked Kiyoomi to the core, startling him so much that he barely got a grip on himself before he could fall off the bed in fear. His hands were tightly wrapped around the soft covers of his bed, gripping them as a means to steady himself. Chest and breath heaving as he fought to control his breathing once more. 

Vigorously turning his head to the source of the voice, his eyes narrowed even further as he saw the irritatingly bright smile of his cousin. 

Not bothering to hide his annoyance at the trespassing, Kiyoomi clicked his tongue as he threw a pillow at his cousin with as much strength as he could muster. 

Barely smiling but huffing out a small chuckle as Motoya’s eyes widened at the pillow attack. It was fun to watch his cousin stumble as he tried to get away, but not reacting quickly enough and still getting hit in the stomach.

Motoya bent over to clutch his stomach, wincing as he felt the aftermath of getting hit, he was surprised that a tear hadn’t escaped his eye. 

“What are you doing here Motoya,” Kiyoomi sighed as he got up, walking over to the doorway and grabbing the pillow he had thrown at the intruder, gently turning and inspecting the pillow before removing the pillowcase and putting it in the hamper. 

“I wanted to see my favourite cousin and as you didn’t answer the door, I just used my spare key,” Motoya answered, wide smile back in place as he followed Kiyoomi to the kitchen, politely ignoring Kiyoomi’s grunts of irritation and how he rubbed his temples. 

“You came to Osaka just to see me?” Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow at the answer, knowing that there was more to it than just that. “Do you want some tea?”

“Yes please, nice to see that you remember some of the manners that auntie tried to teach you.”

“Answer the first question Motoya,” The younger man demanded, voice sharp as he addressed his friend while looking through the various teas he had in his cabinet.

“Let’s be honest Kiyoomi, you know exactly why I’m here,” Motoya smugly retaliated, leaning over the kitchen countertop and folding his arms in front of him. “Why don’t you try to guess.”

Abandoning his quest to find the right tea, Kiyoomi turned around to glare at the man in front of him, practically spitting out the reply. “Cut it out.” 

“Wrong answer, but you can try again,” Motoya practically sang, taking pleasure in seeing Kiyoomi grit his teeth. 

“Seriously Motoya, you really want to do this?”

“Ahhhh,” Motoya sighed and shook his head at the second reply. “Wrong again, you have one more try, better get it right.”

“Motoya.”

“Kiyoomi,” the other man mockingly replied, rolling his eyes before staring directly into his cousin’s dark eyes, narrowed eyes meeting each other across the countertop, neither wanting to back down. 

It wasn’t long before Kiyoomi admitted defeat, big hands clenched into fists on top of the table.

“Fine,” Kiyoomi relented, the reluctance clear in his voice as his eyes averted the mischievous glanze of his cousin. “You’re here because Miya’s boyfriend broke up with him.”

“And?” Motoya asked, moving his hand in circles as he motioned for Kiyoomi to continue. 

Throwing his head back, Kiyoomi wondered just what he had done to deserve this. “And you want to know if I’m going to confess.”

Snapping his fingers, Motoya rose from his previous position. “Exactly, so?”

“No.”

“Excuse me.”

Kiyoomi turned around, refusing to allow Motoya to see his expression, hoping that the other didn’t pay attention to his tense shoulders. “No, I won’t confess.”

“Not this again, what is it this time?” the libero complained, throwing his hands in the air as he kept talking. “It’s too early. He’s too beautiful. I’m not good enough. It wouldn’t work.”

Motoya slammed his hands on the kitchen table, making Kiyoomi’s eyebrows raise in astonishment as he witnessed a ferocity in the expression and tone of cousin that he had never seen before, the glare and anger making him take a step back in surprise.

“Those are all bullshit excuses and you know it. It’s not too early if Miya himself is happy about it. Both of you are seen as beautiful and thirsted over by fans. Also, according to you no one is good enough for him, so that doesn’t work.”

Kiyoomi watched as his oldest friend, and cousin, talked, eyes wide in wonder as he saw the serenity. 

“And lastly, who knows if it could work or not, that’s always a risk in relationships no matter what, but I’m not letting you throw away your chance without trying,” Motoya loudly exclaimed, the normally playful and kind tone becoming harsh and erratic, matching the clenched fists laying on the countertop.

The silence stretching after the exclamation was deafening in itself, the only sounds coming from the forgotten kettle and Motoya’s slow gaps of breath as he tried to control his emotions. 

Kiyoomi swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat, it wasn’t normal for him to feel this way. 

He never bothered with thinking or dreaming of what-ifs and perhaps, there had never been a need for him to daydream of things that were out of his grasp. No matter how much he wanted them. 

Yet, if there was ever a want that would make him wonder, it would be Miya Atsumu. If he was allowed to mindlessly dream about impossible possibilities, it would be Miya.

He wanted everything the setter could give him, even if he didn’t believe he deserved it.

Kiyoomi wanted the early mornings with too much coffee to get them ready for practice, he wanted to be the one to make Miya’s too sweet coffee,  _ two pumps of caramel syrup, two teaspoons of sugar and then milk _ , the one that would make him sigh in happiness. 

Kiyoomi craved the lazy mornings of waking up next to the blonde in the late hours of the morning, watching his chest rise slowly as he slept soundly in their bed. The young setter’s body covered by black covers, the dark duvets and pillows surrounding him and creating a beautiful imagery, with the setter as the centerpiece. 

He dreamt of autumn evenings after practice, walking around and watching the lights brighten the dark sky. Coming home late with take out food, eager to lose the freezing sensation coming from the weather that grew colder and colder. Curled up on the couch with food and a shared blanket, an unimportant movie playing on the television as they refused to focus on anything other than each other. 

Kiyoomi yearned for late nights after wandering hands on the couch, to grab Miya’s hand and pull him to their bedroom, laying him down ever so softly on the cover and crawling on top. Hovering and looking deep into sultry amber eyes, feeling arms wrap around his neck and pull him down to taste lips of cherry. 

He wanted to feel the untouched skin as he ran his hands down the body underneath him, ripping the shirt off him to have better access. 

How many times had he dreamt of that? Dreamt of running his tongue across sculpted abs, moving further and further down, biting marks into thick thighs that wrapped around his head, holding him in place as he gave pleasure to the offering that was laid in front of him. 

Listening to the deep and desperate moans, sounding like prayers to a merciless god. How good Miya would sound calling out his name, calling out that stupidly endearing nickname as Kiyoomi worshipped his very being. 

How Miya would throw his head back against the soft pillows, would arch his back as he came, a breathless whisper of  _ omi-omi _ leaving his lips as his thighs tightened their grip. 

His own pleasure coming from Miya's pleasure, from seeing him with red bitten lips and rosy cheeks, hazy amber eyes that looked up at him from beneath wet lashes, a heaving chest filled with bite marks and hickeys. 

A lazy smile present as he pulled Kiyoomi back up to him, kissing him as though his life depended on it. Laying on Kiyoomi’s chest as they came down from their high, playing with black curls as he whispered praises and gave thanks. 

Kiyoomi wanted that,  _ he needed that.  _

“Kiyoomi.”

The distress in the tone of his cousin brought Kiyoomi back to the present, lifting his head and looking at the sorrowful expression, those pitiful eyes and chewing on his lips as he seemed to consider his next words. 

“Don’t you want this?” Motoya pleaded, not happy with his cousin trying to throw away something that could bring him so much happiness.

“I-” Kiyoomi gulped as he stopped to think, standing motionless in the kitchen as his mouth kept opening and closing, wanting to deny it. But the words just couldn’t come out, they kept getting stuck on the tip of his tongue. 

_ Truly, what was stopping him?  _ The thought couldn’t leave his head, why didn’t he take the step? He didn’t believe in dreaming of the impossible, but was it really that unobtainable? He did have a chance, no matter how small he believed it was, it was there. 

“I want it. Oh god Motoya, I’ve wanted him for so long,” Kiyoomi finally admitted, he couldn’t hide it any longer, his body and mind couldn’t take it if another person took Miya from him once more. 

He was tired of pretending and hiding it, of ignoring the warmth and happiness that came from seeing and provoking the setter, always being provoked in return. 

“I know, everyone knows, and frankly.” Motoya hesitated at the last second, cutting himself off but holding up his hand as a sign for Kiyoomi not to interrupt. 

“We, all of us, think that you guys could be happy together if only both of you got off your ass and did something. Mostly you, you have got to take the lead on this one, Kiyoomi. Show Atsumu what he’s missing.” Motoya emphasised the last part, pointing at his cousin. 

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Kiyoomi was slowly becoming more and more agitated with the situation, even when he had finally admitted that this was what he wanted, he had a hard time seeing how they could make it happen. 

Pursing his lips and clicking his teeth, Motoya seemed to consider whether or not he should open his mouth. “Well, you see,” he started, slowly walking around the kitchen island to stand in front of his cousin, hands reaching up and gently holding on to Kiyoomi’s shoulders.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Kiyoomi took a step back and raised an eyebrow at the mysterious behaviour and the sheepish smile the libero was giving him. 

“As you know, a lot of our friends are aware of your crush and love, so luckily for you, we have plans for this,” giving a thumbs up, Motoya smiled widely at Kiyoomi’s exasperated face, watching as the younger started rubbing his eyes as he kept himself back. 

“What?”

“Yeah,” he nervously licked his lips as he took a break, trying to find the right way to explain it. “All of us-”

“Who are all of us?” Kiyoomi questioned, holding up a hand to stop Motoya from talking.

“Uhm, the rest of the monster generation and pretty much everyone that knew us and them in high school and their teams. But you know, everyone likes you and thinks you and Miya could be a good couple.”

Kiyoomi’s voice was hectic and baffled as he asked. “Does everyone really support it? It’s not just mocking me?”

“Nope, no mocking or anything like that, you already got Osamu’s stamp of approval, so no need to worry about a hateful brother-in-law.” 

Kiyoomi ignored the bright smile and double thumbs up as he clicked his teeth. “Motoya, you’re my cousin, which unfortunately means that I am stuck with you and can not hurt you, no matter what.” 

Motoya gulped as Kiyoomi started glaring at him, the only thing stopping him from running away was that he had already gotten this far. 

“However, with that being said.” Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes further as Motoya’s nervous smile returned, wobbling slightly at the ends of his lips. 

“You’re going to hurt me?” The other man questioned nervously, index finger raised slightly as he made the assumption, left eye giving a minor twitch as he watched the right corner of Kiyoomi’s lips raise. Not by much, but just enough that Motoya felt hopeful that he wouldn’t die in his cousin's apartment today. 

Kiyoomi hummed before shaking his head, leading Motoya to let out a sigh at the non-verbal answer.

“No, I’m not going to hurt you, but you’re going to make this up to me by covering for me whenever mom starts to mention a partner and children,” Kiyoomi bargained, voice showing the tiniest bit of happiness at the outcome. 

He was slowly running out of both excuses and patience when it came to his mother’s desire for him to find a partner and give her grandchildren, so if he could have Motoya take the toll at family events, it would ease his stress. 

“Fine,” Motoya said, eyes closing and the answer drawled out as he accepted the end result. 

“And,” Kiyoomi hesitated at the end of the word, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally biting his lip and finishing his sentence. “You’re going to get everyone to help me.”

“Uh, help you with what?” the libero asked, tone suggesting nothing but confusion and a need for explanation.

Kiyoomi watched as Motoya motioned for him to keep going, hands moving in circles in front of him as he stared at Kiyoomi with pursed lips and wide eyes. 

“Help me get with Miya,” tapping his finger against the counter, Kiyoomi saw Motoya’s face go through multiple expressions in just a few seconds; shock, questioning, happiness and extreme excitement. 

His face converted into a wide smile as he realised what Kiyoomi was telling him. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying,” Motoya’s voice was uneven as he spoke, the eagerness dripping out of every word. 

“Yes, you finally got your wish. Now, please contact everyone, who apparently knows about this, and who are willing to help,” Kiyoomi clarified, turning back to the forgotten kettle and restarting it, ignoring Motoya’s continued whispering of the words. “Fucking finally.” and “Yes.”

As he prepared the cups and tea bags, Kiyoomi couldn’t deny the slight twinge in his heartstrings at the thought of finally having Miya in his grasp. The possibility of holding him and kissing him, of tucking the small strand of hair, the one that always went into his eye, behind his ear, getting that bright smile in return. 

“Okay, so I’ve texted everyone and all of them are ready to help. They’re also really excited, which is great because we’re probably going to need a lot of help,” Motoya nonchalantly commented as he looked through the countless texts he was getting, all of them showing the same excitement. 

Motoya took the cup offered to him in silence, lifting it up to his mouth but stopping just as it reached his lips, smelling the refreshing scent of mango, the preferred tea of his cousin. Inhaling and exhaling before he blew on it, happy with the temperature before taking a big sip. 

As Motoya looked through his phone, trying to respond to every text he got from their friends, not noticing the subtle ringtone from another phone, nor did he notice his cousin’s raised eyebrows and fumbling hands that almost dropped both his phone and the teacup.

“You need to leave right now, Motoya,” Kiyoomi spoke up, putting the items he was holding on the counter and taking Motoya’s cup from him in a hurry, quickly dumping the rest of the contents into the sink. 

“What?” Motoya mumbled as he looked down at his, now, empty hands, before looking back up at his cousin. 

“Why do I have to leave? We have to make plans with everyone, make sure we have ideas to get you guys together,” his voice was laced with confusion, accompanied by his erratic movements, walking towards Kiyoomi.

“You have to leave because Miya just texted him and asked if he could drop by, so you need to leave immediately, you can’t be here when he gets here,” Kiyoomi sternly said, grabbing Motoya’s elbow and pulling him towards the door.

“Okay fine, I got it,” he answered as he put his shoes on, his voice was soft and he tried not to let out a slight laugh as he saw how nervous his cousin really was. And as much as he wanted to give some kind of advice, he knew that it wasn’t what Kiyoomi needed at the moment. 

“See you soon and have fun,” was the last thing Kiyoomi heard before Motoya slipped out of the door, away from Kiyoomi’s unfocused gaze. 

“I have to get ready,” Kiyoomi said to himself, his voice sounding louder than before in the once more quiet apartment.

The hitter quickly moved around his place as he inspected everything, not having to do anything extreme, his apartment was always clean and today was not any different. He only had to make his bed, his duvet and pillows all over the place after he had laid down earlier.

“I think that should do it,” Kiyoomi slowly commented, voice gentle but carrying tremors of excitement as he ran his hand over the soft pillows on the couch, sitting down and waiting for the other man to get there. 

He had actually listened to Motoya as he had talked in the kitchen, but then he had heard the ringtone,  _ Miya’s ringtone,  _ and his brain had simply lost all focus on what his cousin had been saying. 

It hadn’t been a grand message, just a simple ‘hey, can I drop by? kinda want someone to talk to’, with one of his regular cute emoticons at the end. 

Kiyoomi had barely thought before he gave his confirmation, quickly getting a big smiley in response. 

He had hurried to get Motoya out of his apartment, quickly cleaning up the few things that needed to be put away. 

Now, he was just sitting on his couch scrolling through instagram as he waited for the blond setter to come over. 

Waiting for the inevitable knock on the door, the same rhythm that Miya always used, two quick knocks in succession followed by slight pause and one knock, and lastly two more quick knocks. 

It was that exact same tune that interrupted him in his musings, instantly getting him off the couch and walking towards the door. 

As much as he believed he was a rational human, there was a part of him that could feel the nerves becoming too much. He had always felt like this, but back when he had denied himself any chance it had been easier to ignore it. 

Even as he knew that nothing would happen today, he was under no illusion that it would feel more intimate for him. 

“Omi-Omi, are ya in there?” the enthusiastic voice of Miya Atsumu called out right as he finished the last knock. 

Against his own will, Kiyoomi felt a slight smile tuck at his lips as he heard the tune start back up. 

Schooling his expression back to normal, he opened the door just as Miya was about to deliver the final knock, the setter’s hand stopping right before it made contact with Kiyoomi’s shoulder. 

“Shit,” Miya exclaimed as he restrained himself, his eyes widened as his hand quickly shot back against his side. 

“Hey Omi-Omi, thanks for inviting me,” a bright smile and the signature drawl on the words invading both his ears and eyes. 

“Technically, you were the one to ask if you could come over,” Kiyoomi answered coolly, taking a step to the side, motioning that Miya could come in. 

“Well technically ya said yes, meaning ya invited me over,” Miya quickly fired back, voice rising slightly as he hurried to answer Kiyoomi’s provocation attempt.

“If that’s how you want to see it,” the outside hitter relented, shrugging before he tapped the bottle of hand sanitiser on the shelf next to them. 

Miya rolled his eyes before he walked over to the dispenser. A small begrumbled pout present as he did, showing Kiyoomi that he knew the hitter let him ‘win’ their argumentation. Something that the black-haired man normally never let happen, making it all the more suspicious. 

Kiyoomi waited for Miya to finish, watching the other man’s body as it moved. Dark eyes glued to the muscles moving underneath the tight white shirt, the gaze moving down as Miya bent over to put his shoes on the rack. 

Although he knew it wasn’t polite, Kiyoomi couldn’t deny himself the chance of eyeing the setter’s thighs and ass just a little bit, as though he didn’t do it constantly during practice and in games.

_ Even obscured by his pants, it’s still a treat unlike any other.  _ Kiyoomi thought, nibbling at his lips as he averted his eyes, just in time for Miya to rise up and turn to look at him.

“So what's up, Omi-omi?” 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one who said you needed someone to talk to,” Kiyoomi replied blankly, raising an eyebrow as he watched Miya wince at the words. “Never mind, do you want something to drink?” 

Piquing up at the change of topic Miya eagerfully nodded, following right behind Kiyoomi as he started to talk about the latest food concoctions he sampled for his brother. 

Kiyoomi lifted his hand to direct Miya to the chairs as he filled up the kettle once more, barely hearing the soft squeak as the setter sat down, never once stopping his rambling. 

Humming and reacting at the right places, Kiyoomi continued rummaging around in the kitchen, preparing one cup with his usual mango tea and the other cup with Miya’s preferred caramel tea. 

He had tried the tea once before, when Miya had been pestering him for days after he had heard the hitter say the tea would be sickeningly sweet. Kiyoomi had relented after four days and let Miya make him the tea. 

He remembered he had been surprised at the strong aroma, yet it hadn’t been as sweet as he thought it would be. There was a softness and slightly sweet undertone to the taste, but it was still a bit bitter in a way only black tea could be. 

Admitting to Miya that the tea wasn’t bad was not an outcome he had expected, but as he recalled the blinding smile, he couldn’t say he regretted it. 

Even though the older man used it to tease him now. 

“Oh, ya still have caramel tea? I thought ya would have thrown out the bag I gave ya,” Miya commented as the cup was put down in front of him, voice clearly depicting how surprised he felt, matching the wrinkles forming on his forehead. 

“Of course, while I might not drink it a lot, there are some days when I find it more enticing than my normal tea,” Kiyoomi replied absentmindedly, taking his own seat across the blonde man. 

Kiyoomi copied Miya as he lifted his cup to take a sip, noticing the small smile the older man had just before it got hidden by the cup. 

“Thanks,” Miya quietly said as he put the cup back down, both hands still gripping the cup tightly, seeking the warmth and grounding that the hot mug offered. 

“It’s fine.”

Kiyoomi didn’t say anything else, only watching Miya bow his head and look directly into the tea, fingers drawing small patterns on the outside of the mug. 

If he hadn’t gelled his hair, then Kiyoomi might not have been able to see the line constantly disappearing and reappearing on his forehead. 

_ Nervous, huh? Cute.  _ Kiyoomi couldn’t help but focus on the expressions crossing the setter’s face. 

“So, um I don’t know if you know this, but,” Miya nervously spoke up, voice cracking at the end. “Yuuri and I broke up, or he broke up with me, I guess.”

“I see,” Kiyoomi tried to sound surprised as Miya talked, his cup lifted and paused right in front of his mouth so he could answer. High enough so it could also hide the small grin that Kiyoomi wasn’t able to stop.

“My condolences.” 

“What?” Miya stuttered, repeatedly blinking at Kiyoomi before he threw his head back, loud laughter quickly filling the apartment. The setter tried to contain himself, lifting his hand and covering his mouth but it wasn’t enough to stop him. 

Miya slowly returned to his former position, allowing Kiyoomi to see the barely open eyes with a few stray tears in the corner, the overly pleased expression that was still visible as Miya tried to hide his smile and laughter. Not quite succeeding with his mission. 

“I was unaware I said something funny,” Kiyoomi calmly said, putting his tea cup down and folding his arms in front of him as he leaned back in his seat, enjoying watching the setter smile. 

“I’m, fuck, I’m sorry Omi-Omi, but that’s something ya say at a funeral, not when ya hear yer friend’s been broken up with,” Miya replied from behind his hand, answer muffled by the hand and the few giggles that made their way inbetween the words. 

“But it’s actually what I want to talk about,” the setter quickly clarified, hurryingly injecting before Kiyoomi could say anything. 

The hitter closed his mouth as he narrowed his eyes, observing how Miya’s smile faltered when he noticed Kiyoomi’s eyes on him. 

The silence stretched as Miya fidgeted in his seat, finally acting by groaning as he bent his head forward, hands tightly gripping the blonde hair as his elbows came to rest on the table. 

“So, it’s a bit weird, but I didn’t really know who to ask and yer like the most logical person I know, so I thought ya might be able to help.” 

“Miya, what are you trying to say?” Kiyoomi asked, voice steady and stable even if his brain wasn’t. Constantly running through scenarios, all of them ending differently but starting with Miya asking if he should beg Yuuri to get back together. 

Hearing Miya give a shaky exhale almost rattled Kiyoomi, but he forced himself to stay calm, knowing very well that nothing good ever came from speculating. 

“I just don’t understand. I know I should be sad that I got broken up with, but I don’t feel anything like that,” taking a break from talking, Miya raised his head and glanced into Kiyoomi’s eyes. The doubt and hesitation twirling shallowly in amber eyes. 

“I think I feel relieved and I don’t understand it at all,” he slowly admitted. “Shouldn’t I be sad? Why am I happy?”

“Is it wrong for you to be happy?” Kiyoomi gently asked. 

At the question Miya widened his eyes, seemingly shocked at the inquiry. “I, What? No, it’s not wrong, but -”

“If it’s not wrong, then why is it bad that you’re happy?” Kiyoomi pushed, interrupting his setter before he could complete his sentence. 

“Because he broke up with me?”

“So?”

Miya stuttered furiously before answering, his cheeks flushed red with annoyance. “Because it’s normal to be sad when yer boyfriend fucking breaks up with ya, Omi-Omi”

“Yes, it’s normal to be sad if it was a good relationship,” Kiyoomi calmly explained, nodding slowly as he paid no mind to Miya’s exclamation. “But, was this a good relationship?”

“He didn’t abuse me, Omi-kun.” 

The outside hitter raised an eyebrow as he watched Miya’s hand grip the table, pearly white teeth gritting against each other as he spat out the words. 

“I didn’t say he abused you, Miya. Abuse is not the only thing that can cause a bad relationship, sometimes two people just don't fit. They don’t make each other happy, and that’s okay as long as they see it and break up,” Kiyoomi felt like he was explaining the concept to a child, talking firmly and slowly as he held eye contact with the setter. 

“With that being said, were you happy?” 

Immediately opening his mouth to answer, Miya paused as he blinked, licking his lips and taking a deep breath before finally moving to answer. “No.”

“There you go, you weren’t happy so why should you feel sad that he’s gone.”

“Huh,” Miya uttered, tilting his head as he directed his narrowed gaze to Kiyoomi. “I kept feeling like I had to restrain myself, ya know? Like there were only small parts I could show him, cause he kept criticising half of my personality.”

“I’ll admit it was easy to see that you were unhappy, you changed yourself whenever he was near you and not in a good way,” Kiyoomi slowly said, considerate and careful in his words as he talked. 

“Guess I know why Samu and Suna hated him then. Ya know, when I told Samu I wasn’t together with him anymore, he whispered ‘fucking finally’. I don’t think he knows that I heard him,” the setter snorted at the end, winking at Kiyoomi when he saw the younger man’s lips twitch, earning him a slight smirk. 

“Thank Omi-Omi, yer pretty good at this stuff, might wanna look into becoming a relationship counselor,” Miya cheekily said, pointing finger guns at Kiyoomi as he gave his advice. 

“I would rather die, Miya,” Kiyoomi deadpanned, rising up and collecting their tea cups, ignoring the loud whining behind him. 

“Ya might be right, but still, thanks for yer advice, Omi-Omi. It helped a bit,” Miya stood up and walked over to the other man, leaning back against the counter as he watched the hitter wash up. 

“Maybe I just need to get back out there, put myself back in the game.”

The admission was enough to throw off Kiyoomi, his movements stopping for a few seconds before he turned his head, seeing Miya’s puzzled gaze looking right at him. 

“Something wrong?”

Kiyoomi cleared his throat before continuing putting the cups away. “Not at all, but I would advise taking a few days to get back on track before you start dating again. Just get yourself back.” 

He prayed that he kept his voice steady enough, so that the setter wouldn’t discover Kiyoomi’s own motives. 

Miya hummed as he considered the words, leaning even further back on the counter as he gazed upwards. “I think ya might be onto something. Yeah, I should do that.”

“Glad you’re finally taking my advice, Miya,” Kiyoomi commented, cleaning up the counter and listening to the setter’s stray musings on how he was going to spend the next week.

“Well, sometimes ya do actually give useful advice, Omi-Omi,” was the snarky reply that Miya gave him, a self-satisfied smile in place as Kiyoomi turned to look at him once more. 

“Anything else you might need now that you’re here?” Kiyoomi asked, barely able to keep his want and need out of his voice.

“Nah, but thanks for it,” the setter shook his head and pushed himself off the counter. “I actually need to leave, I promised Samu I would drop by. Honestly, I think he’s either worried for me or throwing a break up party.”

“Might be both,” Kiyoomy replied as he followed Miya to the door, hearing him snort at the comment. 

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Miya muttered as he bent over to grab his shoes, quickly putting them on. 

“Thanks for having me, Omi-Omi. I’ll see ya at practice tomorrow,” the setter joyfully said, smiling at the hitter before leaving to meet with his twin. 

Kiyoomi watched the door for a few seconds, only moving when he was certain that the blonde wasn’t coming back. 

Walking back over to the couch, he couldn’t organize the thoughts whirling around inside his head. It was only when he sat down and breathed out that the situation dawned on him.

“I’m fucked,” Kiyoomi calmly said, voice resonating in the now silent and empty apartment. He knew that he had to figure it out, he had to come up with a way to make Miya date him, a way to make Miya Atsumu his. 

And he definitely needed help to achieve it.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you guys liked it, as I had a lot of fun writing it! I also hope I did Sakusa justice, I was so unsure writing him, but I think it went pretty well! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and please remember to take care of yourself!


End file.
